//------------------------------//
// The Night Responds 
// Story: Pointless 
// by Dark Avenger 
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Dear Twilight Sparkle,

Rest assured, your frequent apologies were not necessary. Your message had arrived during a fairly uneventful period within my schedule, so the timing caused no disturbance. Still, I commend your desire to be respectful.

Your other concern is also unnecessary. I am well aware of your relationship with my sister, and it is only right that you focus your time on communicating with her. The fact that, despite this, you would choose to seek my audience is most humbling, so I wish to thank you.

The content of your message, on the other hoof, did create quite a stir within my own thoughts. I will attempt to respond with all haste, but I am not certain the tale can be told in a reasonable amount of time.

I have pondered for many years, eons even, upon the kind of thoughts that trouble you now. But even my mind and my memories are vulnerable to the effects of time. There were so many failed attempts. So often have I decided to just give in and not bother any further, and whatever answers I found escaped my grasp once more. Only the events that struck the deepest into my soul could leave a mark that I can find even today, though I would prefer not to



During my banishment, time was my only possession. I would have traded it for anything else in the world, but all that I could spend it on were the things in my head. Time became fuel for my mind to burn while it plowed through the same fields of thought and memory over and over again. Were it not for the powerful will of the Nightmare, I doubt that I could have



When my sister and I were young, we could barely grasp the implications of how long our lives would be. We grew up among most admirable companions, all of us expecting to face whatever fate was ahead of us together. But it was not to last. We



Even the most ignorant ponies in the world live their lives according to a structure that has a "beginning" and an "end." It is impossible for me to describe what it feels like to have no end in sight. The first time I



I may end up as the one who must apologize after all. My thoughts are proving to be more difficult to organize than I expected. The moment I attempt to follow the path of one, it seems to wander off in the wrong direction. Memories burst forth, along with intense emotions, some of which I would rather not put on paper. 

I could answer all of your questions at length, but my impression of your letter suggests that it would not be of much help to you. Perhaps another day, but right now we do not have enough time. If the warm sunlight of tomorrow veils your concerns once more, then your effort tonight will have come to naught.

Of course, I do not wish to delay your rest much longer either. Thus, I shall force myself to begin somewhere and follow through until the end. I also felt compelled to emulate your style of writing, for it had intrigued me. My own thoughts may prove to be just as educational if I were to show them without hiding anything.

You may recall how I commended your "Star Swirl the Bearded" costume during my stay in Ponyville. The quality of the tailoring made it quite obvious that you had a great desire for precision, and since few accurate images remain of the great scholar, I suspected you spent a great deal of time unearthing all the necessary source material. All this revealed to me that you are indeed an avid admirer of his work. However, there is one crucial detail that even you, not unlike many others, seem to have overlooked.

The costume caused much confusion among your companions, did it not? Perhaps it even amused some of those who wish to disrespect misunderstood the design, or were not aware of whom it depicted in the first place. Indeed, Star Swirl the Bearded is not nearly the most well-known historical figure in Equestria, even though a mere fraction of his life's work should deserve such a reward. However, while I sympathize with any frustration you may have over this, I must confess that our subjects are not solely to blame.

I suggest you gather what strength you have left and focus, Twilight Sparkle. What I am about to tell you has remained a secret for over a thousand years.

Among all of the unknowns related to him, perhaps the most baffling is the true purpose of Star Swirl's, shall we say, "humorous" appearance. One may rightfully wonder why one of the greatest magicians of ponykind would wear something that looks as though it belongs in a whimsical fairy tale. Indeed, many great minds across generations have stumbled upon this mystery while studying his life, after which they all made their own attempts to interpret it. Countless others have made lesser efforts and just conjured up all sorts of anecdotes. You have no doubt heard of many of them, perhaps even developed a few yourself.

Some believed it was an act of rebellion of sorts, either against the standards of his peers that he did not agree with, or to go against the expectations of ponies humbled by his reputation. Others thought it was no more than a matter of personal taste. Some imagined that the clothes were a part of an experiment, perhaps capable of assisting him in certain fields of magic. Another theory suggests that it was an elaborate riddle presented to challenge his students, a habit which we know he was quite fond of.

No approach contained enough evidence to stand above all others, but the effect speaks for itself. Even today, most ponies can only associate mere clothing and a beard with one of our greatest historical figures, if anything at all. To say that he had become a laughingstock may be an exaggeration, but the look itself and the added mystery have drained far too much attention away from his more worthy exploits. One may assume it is about time we could enlighten everypony once and for all.

The truth, however, is ironically trivial, and almost unworthy of mention. Star Swirl's most well-known attire was no more than an offspring of a sort of "fashion trend" at the time. His most frequently worn clothes were simple robes, not unlike the ones Clover the Clever is depicted in, as well as most other renowned scholars.

At the time, however, the upper classes among unicorns struggled to outdo each other in displays of wealth, and their methods even included blatant attire that employed whatever means necessary to attract attention. Some of the fools here still do it When Star Swirl witnessed that even some of his colleagues started following this trend, he apparently had a moment of weakness in the face of his own vanity and curiosity. Thus, he commissioned a tailor to create the design that you know so well today, including those obnoxious bells that Even compared to the fashion at the time, the design was excessive, to say the least.

Needless to say, his "experiment" did not last for long. He wore it for about a week at most, during which he even attempted to hold a lecture. It was the only time in his entire life that he was very nearly laughed out of the room. Still, as legend has it, he embraced the hilarity and went on with the lecture unfazed, though the robes were never seen again after he finished.

Despite its brief appearance, the image was so striking that it became the most iconic depiction of him during the ages to come. Time has a habit of eroding the memories of the past, however, and while the image remained clear, the anecdote that told its origin did not fare so well. In the end, my sister and I were the only ones who still knew the truth about this particular incident.

Countless times have the two of us considered clarifying the mystery for the public, even though we feared it would be disrespectful to the memory of Star Swirl. A far more important factor, however, was the effect of the mystery itself. For all the "comic relief" and futile speculation it inspired, the inspiration was at least still there. Many who would later go on to become great scholars themselves were inspired by Star Swirl the Bearded, and were it not for his strange clothes, some of these ponies would never have become curious enough to learn more about him, even if they were among those who just laughed at first.

And herein lies the lesson that must be learned. Star Swirl himself never wished to "prove a point" with this incident, but he did not lash out once the image became famous either. He made no effort to perpetuate nor squash it. He simply wished to explore. To teach. To inspire. If somepony wished to see a less dignified side of him, he saw no harm in it. And if it is our wish to sustain his memory, then why harm something that he himself did not? For all we know, if we were to reveal just how unremarkable the story of the image really is, then Star Swirl might blend in as "just another bland figure from the past."

This is what you must understand, Twilight. You are right to ask questions nopony ever thought of and seek answers that nopony else wants to. These are the ambitions that drive progress. But there are times when the things you seek are not in the right direction. There was nothing to learn in the truth itself that I revealed to you. Only the efforts that it could inspire had any real worth, but even those are only proof that nopony thought to question whether that "image" of Star Swirl was valid or not. Similarly, your own frustrations speak of answers you seek that may not be the ones you need.

I once made the mistake of taking such a search too far. For centuries I have sought to improve my design of my half of the daily cycle. I believed that beauty and precision was all I needed to gain more admirers of the night. Those concepts were soon replaced by magnitude and power. Never would I seek the help of others, least of all my own sister, out of fear that I may be met with the same indifference that you now imagine in your friends. 

We both know where that kind of thinking had led me.

From what my sister had told me, you are pioneering a field of magic and philosophy that might one day lead to the greatest breakthrough in the history of ponykind. There are many more questions ahead of you, perhaps more than you can imagine, and the rate of answers most likely will not satisfy a mind as eager as your own. But this is not a challenge that you must face alone. 

Your friends are not there to distract you from this effort. They are there to guide you back to the path when they fear that you have strayed from it. You must seek their help. Their company. Involve them in your work, but do not "convert" them. Do not simply try to force them onto the same train of thought as your own. That will not allow them to help you. It will only lead to wrong advice, or even push them away when you might need them most.

The mysteries of life are indeed not to be ignored. But not all of them are as complex as we would like them to be. Sometimes, one must take a step back and find a more simple answer. Sometimes, one should see the world through the eyes of somepony else. Somepony unburdened by a web of questions that seem to lead nowhere. What they lack in knowledge, they might make up for in clarity of mind.

Rest now, Twilight Sparkle. Your admiration of my work is deeply humbling, but it should not come at the price of your health. If my sister provides warmth to invigorate ponies during the day, then it is my duty to provide comfort during their time to rest. Please do not let my efforts go to waste. To my night, beauty is secondary.

Thank you again for writing to me. I hope I have been able to help.

Your grateful friend,
Luna


-----

The purple glow around the scroll faded away as Twilight released her magical grip. Her hoof reached out to curl up the message, nudged it next to the one she received earlier, then doused the candle on the corner of the desk. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she had to hold back a chuckle when she noticed that over half of the large pillar of wax had burned away.

Her ear twitched as a faint snore rang out behind her. She turned around to glance at Spike, who was lying in his cot on his back, fast asleep. His blanket hung over the side of his bed, one of his claws still clutching it tightly.

"Can you show it to me once it's done?" his voice echoed in her head.

"Why don't I just read it out loud for you?" she had replied.

"Nah. I don't like cold readings. Go ahead, I'll wait up."

She tiptoed up to him, grabbed the blanket with her teeth, and gently draped it over the rest of his body.

"Sleep tight, Spike," she whispered.

The young dragon muttered something, squirmed about a bit, and went back to snoring peacefully. Twilight straightened herself again. She closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh. 

Once again, she felt empty. But it was not the same emptiness as before. It was not pleasant, nor at the very least a relief. She felt that desire for something to happen again. An odd tightness formed in her chest, as though the void in it tried to consume her, and her limbs fidgeted restlessly. Words upon words shaped themselves in her mind and echoed in her head, struggling to get out and reach an audience.

Her gaze wandered aimlessly throughout the half-lit room and eventually arrived at her desk. There was a bright patch at the center of it from a small dose of moonlight that streamed in through her window. It revealed an empty piece of parchment and a fresh container of ink that she had prepared just minutes ago.

The sight of them tugged on her limbs. It made her forget about the growing weight on her eyelids. Her legs pulled her toward her desk. She took a few steps forward. At the last moment, however, she changed direction. She moved to her window, pulled the curtains apart, and looked up at the sky outside.

A cloud-covered sky awaited her. The moon was all that managed to shine through. She heard the words of the princess in her head once more. Her head started to feel heavy, and her limbs could barely support her now.

Her hoof touched her faint reflection on the glass. She could see her friends' faces. She could hear them laughing. She could hear herself laughing. Spike was reading her letter out loud for them. He laughed as well.

Dear Princess Luna. Thank you very much for your response. I've decided I'm going to talk to my friends today, and...

Twilight shook her head and let out a small chuckle. Her horn lit up, and the parchment and ink both quickly disappeared in one of the drawers of the desk, followed by the messages Luna had sent her. With that done, she slowly crawled into her bed, pulled the covers over herself, and closed her eyes with a smile.

...and I might write about it to you. One exchange just won't be enough between us. For all I know, not even a thousand years' worth of letters would be enough. Either way, we have a lot more to learn from each other.

But for now, I think I just need to sleep on it.

Your friend, Twilight Sparkle.